Exchanged
by Amrunofthesummercountry
Summary: Fate has been twisted. Merry has ended up on the path to Mordor with Frodo. Sam and Pippin must fight for freedom from the Uruk Hai. Author's Note: No, the fic is not dying(is shocked by the idea)Important info!
1. The Accident

EXCHANGED

A/N: My sincerest apologies on the late release of this fic. I know I promised to have it out by the 15 of April but it took longer than I anticipated to proofread and work all the kinks out. Hopefully you find it worth the wait. The beginning is what I had the most difficulties. I tried three different scenarios to set the scene, and finally this morning came up with this one. This fic will follow book cannon for the most part, although there will probably be times when movie cannon is used, just for continuity's sake. The movie similarities are probably most noticeable in this chapter. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy the story. On with the show! (Too much theatre of late......)

Quote of the day: "Racism, sexism, homophobia, and ignorance: those things irritate me alot. That and having no beer in the fridge or losing a girl's number who you really like."-Dominic Monoghan (Merry) on what gets on his nerves. Gave me my smile for the hour. ^_^

CHAPTER ONE

The Accident 

The river swirled, a great singular mass of dark coldness, rushing and gurgling, sucking and tossing, swaying and rocking, swaying and rocking, swaying and....

Sam groaned and slunk down into the boat as far as he was able. Still, the quiziness in his stomach did not subside and he moaned again, burying his face in his hands. Behind him, Frodo laid a kind hand on Sam's shoulder and tried to give his friend a reassuring smile.

"Are you holding up all right, Sam?" the dark haired halfling quirked. 

Sam swallowed heavily and threw a glance over his broad shoulders. He forced a nod. "Well enough, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo could tell that plainly Sam was not doing well at all. The younger hobbit had turned a pale shade of green and the sudden roughness of the Rauros was not helping at all. Frodo frowned but did not call Sam's bluff.

"We shall be stopping soon, Master Gamgee." From the back of the boat a gruff and weather worn voice resounded. The speaker, a coarse dark haired Man, paused in his paddling for a brief moment to wipe his sweating brow. "The falls are near." 

"Will we be moving on tonight, Aragorn?" Frodo asked, looking back at the ranger. Aragorn took up the paddle again and shook his head grimly.

"We will sleep on the choice of which path to take. There are orcs nearby, but only on the eastern shore. I do not think they will trouble us." 

At the head of the boat Sam suppressed another groan. "Just what we need is to be caught between a ruddy bunch of orcs and this river....alls I ask is we get on dry land."

Frodo turned back to his companion and gave Sam's shoulder a squeeze before releasing him and settling back against the boat wall. Another harsh wave jostled the lithe elven boat, and Sam tired not to yelp and held tight to the side. "Hobbits ain't made for water, and that's the truth." He muttered. 

The roar of the falls grew nearer still and at last Aragorn gave the order to turn to shore. The three boats laden with the eight companions glided onto the nearby shore. Sam scrambled out onto the beach quickly then made sure Frodo got out safely before trotting off to find a dry patch of land. Legolas hopped gracefully out of his boat, leaving no foot prints in the mud with his light, elvish feet. Gimli grumbled as he stumbled out behind the elf. Like Sam he had not much enjoyed the boating trip. 

Boromir landed last, with young Merry and Pippin dozing in front of him. The man of Gondor laid his paddle down into the bottom of the ship and gently shook Merry's small shoulder. "Wake up, little one. We are halting for the night," the man called fondly. 

Merry pried one eye open and looked steadily at the man. "I would be happy to get out of this boat, comfortable though it is, but I'm afraid Pip is heavier than he looks."

Boromir turned his gaze to the younger halfling, curled up against his cousin's side sleeping contently. The man smiled fondly and chuckled. 

"We should not wake him, lest we want to be pestered for the rest of the night about when dinner is." With that he picked up the small halfling like a child and stepped out of the boat. Merry stretched his arms high over his head before standing up and following. 

As Boromir passed Aragorn, Aragorn stopped him. "Keep watch over them. Do not let them out of your sight."

Boromir nodded and brought Pippin over to the clearing where Sam and Frodo were setting up camp. The tall captain laid the hobbit down onto a bed of leaves, then walked to a rock a few feet away and sat down. He took out his knife and made like he was cleaning it, though his eyes searched protectively around the surrounding area. Merry plopped himself down beside his cousin and began to speak quietly with Frodo and Sam.

Legolas, who had been taking out the rest of the company's luggage out of the boats and had over heard what Aragorn said to Boromir, presently went over to his friend and asked quietly "Have you an uneasy feeling?"

"A small one, my friend. Something does not seem right in the air," the ranger replied, taking care not to look at the immortal beside him.

"A shadow of a threat has been growing in my mind," the elf said somberly. "I fear that it is not the eastern shore we should be concerned about. I do not forget Lord Celeborn's words."

"Nor do I," Aragorn said, turning to meet Legolas' eyes at last. "Orcs that run under the sun...I have no doubt of their purpose. I do not think that they could over take us with the lead we have, but I am not certain. We must guard Frodo."

"And the others at well," said Legolas reasonably. 

Aragorn nodded and finished pulling the boats in. "Keep your bow loose in your hand, my friend." 

The Company waited out the night. Frodo slept little. He had a horrible feeling in his stomach and the ring called loudly to him. Sam slept uneasily beside him. Frodo fought the call of the ring and tried to focus on his faithful friend instead, but doing so only made the feeling of dread grow bigger. Still, he spoke no word to anyone, deciding that he was just anxious about the morning, when the choice of which path to take would almost certainly be made upon him. Frodo knew what he must do. He was simply terrified to do it. He looked down at Sam's sleeping form. 

"My dear Sam......you would come with me, I know. You would come with me to the fires of Mordor," Frodo whispered. A chill coursed through his spine, making him shudder. Something was about to go dreadfully wrong. 

*************************************************************

The next morning.......

Sam's small fire crackled merrily, but the three hobbits surrounding it found little cheer in its warmth. Merry prodded the flames with a stick. 

"I do wish Frodo would come back," he said moodily. "How long has he been gone now?"

"Near an hour, I'd reckon." Sam was miserable. It seemed that a frown was permanently etched on his features. Frodo had gone off alone to decide what he must do. Not that Sam did not know what his master's choice would be. It was just taking a very long time for him to return, and that put Sam on edge. 

"Sam, you shouldn't scowl like that. Your face might freeze that way." Pippin was trying to lighten up the situation but Sam was in no mood to be cheered up. He crossed his arms and glared at the ground under his feet.

"There ain't nothin' to be smilin' about. Frodo's takin' too long. And where's that Boromir got to?" Sam looked around. Boromir had gone off as well, to collect fire wood as he said. That had been nearly a half an hour ago. Sam did not trust Boromir. He saw the way the man's eyes trained on Frodo's throat, following the silver chain the hung round his neck. Now they were both missing. Sam's unease grew. 

Several feet away, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were discussing essentially the same thing. Aragorn was laden with guilt. He hated forcing Frodo into making such an important decision, but he could think of nothing else to do. He missed the council of Gandalf. Truly in this hour they needed him. 

A rustle behind the three hobbits caused Legolas to whip around, bow drawn. But it was no orc. Boromir came out from the trees and walked towards the remaining company without speaking. His face looked grim and sad. 

~_He paused as if counting those that were present, and then sat down aloof, with his eyes on the ground._

"Where have you been, Boromir?" asked Aragorn. "Have you seen Frodo?"

Boromir hesitated for a second. "Yes, and no." He answered slowly. "I urged him to come to Minas Tirith and not to go east. I grew angry and he left me. He vanished. He must have put the Ring on. I could not find him again. I thought he would return to you. That was half an hour ago; or it might have been an hour. I have wandered for some time since. I do not know! I do not know!" He put his head in his hands and sat as if bowed with grief.

"An hour since he vanished!" shouted Sam. "We must try and find him at once. Come on!"

"Wait a moment!" cried Aragorn. "We must divide up into pairs, and arrange-here, hold on! Wait!"

It was no good. They took no notice of him. Sam had dashed off first. Merry and Pippin had followed, and were already disappearing westward into the trees by the shore, shouting: Frodo! Frodo! in their clear, high, hobbit voices. Legolas and Gimli were running. A sudden panic or madness seemed to have fallen on the Company. (The Fellowship of the Ring: The Breaking of the Fellowship.)~

Sam ran as fast as his legs would carry him. His sword banged against his side where it hung at his hip, but he paid no notice to it. All he could think about was Frodo, that Frodo was missing. Too soon it seemed Sam had to stop, unable to keep up the pace any longer and desperately needing to catch his breath. 

"Frodo!" He cried, leaning against a tree heavily, gasping for air. "Frodo, where are you!! Frodo! Please, answer!" Sam swallowed thickly then called again. His voice ran in the air, but no one answered. No one answered, but his cry did not go unnoticed. Someone had heard. The someone narrowed its yellow slit like eyes and its gnarled lips curled back in a sadistic grin, revealing a mouth full of crowded sharp teeth. This was no voice of a Man or an Elf. A guttural grow emitted from its throat. "Halfling......" 

The orc turned to the rest of his group and with a loud yell gestured in the direction of the cry with a notched, blood darkened blade. "THIS WAY!"

The company of Uruk Hai gave a battle scream that echoed through the woods and broke into a run. Their prey had been located. Where there was one, there would be others. The forest trembled. 

*************************************************************

Merry and Pippin froze in their tracks upon hearing the terrible inhuman cry. Pippin clutched at his cousin's arm. "Orcs, Merry! Its orcs! They're near!" 

Merry stared, listening. The yells sounded again. Merry paled and grabbed Pippin by the hand. "We have to get back to Aragorn and the others. We cannot be out here alone. Loose your sword Pip, we may have to fight!" 

Pippin used his free hand to pull the little blade from its scabbard. He held it clumsily, and Merry pulled out his own, gripping the hilt so tightly his knuckles turned white. The orc cry sounded again. 

"Run! Run, this way!" Merry cried, running back towards the camp, pulling Pippin behind him. 

*************************************************************

Frodo tripped and slid down the hill a little ways, scraping his back. Cursing he pushed himself up and continued to run back towards the boats. He heard the orc cries, but they only made him run faster. He had made his decision to go to Mordor alone and unaided. He could only pray that his friends would escape the orcs unharmed. "Oh Sam....Merry, Pip, I'm so sorry......I am so sorry." Frodo wept as he ran away from the roars of an oncoming battle. 

*************************************************************

"Yrch!" cried Legolas as he strung his bow swiftly. Beside him Gimli raised his axe, ready for the swarm of demons that were coming. 

"Let them come! They did not get the dwarf in Moria, and they will not get the dwarf in the woods! Let them come, I say!" Gimli challenged. His challenged was answered as a wave of Uruk Hai came crashing at them through the trees. Legolas let his arrow fly.

*************************************************************

Aragorn thrust his sword forward, burying it halfway through the orc's chest. With a pitiful cry it died and fell to the ground. Aragorn turned and lobbed the arm of another who tried to stab him from behind. It did no good. No matter how many the ranger felled more just kept coming. There were too many. 

*************************************************************

Sam trembled as the sound of swords and battle grew nearer. He did not feel that he himself was in any danger; his still thought only of Frodo. Where would Frodo go? If Boromir could not find him, and he had put on the ring, he must have made up his mind. Made up his mind......Frodo was going to try to leave. 

The boats! He'd be going back to the boats! Seizing this thought Sam spun around, ready to go running back to the boats to stop his master from whatever he was planning to do. Suddenly something whipped past his face, mere inches away. Sam cried out and toppled backwards, looking up at the black feathered orc arrow that had imbedded itself in the tree behind him. Another flew towards him, landing point down into the ground right beside Sam's hand. He yelped and scuttled backwards, trying to stand up and free his sword at the same time. He only succeeded in tripping himself up even further. The guttural yell sounded again, but this time it was very close and Sam could see the owner of the voice. The vile thing tore through the grove, leaving no tree undamaged, its yellow eyes flashing with malicious glee. Other orcs, just as foul, ran in every direction, crying things in their Black Speech and swinging their swords. Some had cross bows, some had great iron hatchets, some had steel hammers and twisted swords. There were more than Sam could count. They were everywhere. 

"FIND THE HALFLINGS!" Cried the one with the yellow eyes. As of yet it had not seen Sam, crouched on the ground by the trees, his elven cloak camouflaging him. Sam's first instinct was to get up and run, run as fast and as far as he could away from these creatures but he knew that he could not; he would never get far enough away and there was always the chance that he would inadvertently lead these monsters to Frodo, something that Sam was not willing to risk. So, shaking from head to foot but trying to put on a brave face, Sam tore his sword from the Barrow Downs out of its scabbard and leapt to his feet.

"Here you devils!" He cried, trying to hold the blade the way Aragorn had taught him. Several orcs, including the yellow-eyed demon, immediately turned their attention to the hobbit, pale and obviously terrified, but trying to stare them down anyway. 

Shrieking, they came at him, brandishing their weapons. The yellow-eyed Uruk shouted at his band in orc speech, reminding them not to kill the little halfling, only to render it helpless. 

All training forgotten, Sam counter attacked wildly. He ducked and parried, swung and stabbed. Several orcs lost a hand or an arm, but none struck the hobbit with blade or arrow. Instead they closed tight around him. Sam backed up as the orcs pressed on. Panic began to seize Sam as they grew closer. He was outnumbered twenty to one, and he knew that it would not be long before they overtook him completely. 

"Strider!!" He cried, swinging his sword at another, smaller orc. "Strider! Legolas!" Sam's back struck a tree behind him. The orcs surrounded him on all sides. "Strider! ARAGORN!" Sam's cries reached a frantic pitch. No one could hear him; they were all either busy with enemies of their own or too far away. Sam was utterly alone. 

The orcs were not at all pleased with this little rat who had dared set blade to their flesh. He had fought viciously, too viciously for their liking. He had to be subdued. 

The yellow eyed orc pushed its way through the crowd of its kin. Sam looked up at it with fire in his eyes. He ceased shouting for his companions and tightened his grip on the barrows-sword until his finger nails bit into his skin. 

"Stay back!" Sam cried, pressing his back against the tree and raising the blade in front of him. Yellow-eyes growled, smelling the halfling's fear and feeding from it. Mustering up all his courage, Sam thrust forward, aiming for Yellow-eyes' chest. The orc caught Sam by the arm and raised its fist. The young hobbit pulled but could not get free. The fist swung down. 

Sam's sword fell to the ground. 

*************************************************************

**__**

Merry gasped and dove to the ground beneath some thorny bushes, dragging Pippin along with him. 

"Ow!" exclaimed Pippin. He had scratched his knees in the fall. "Merry, what-"

"Hush! Its one of those orcs....." Merry whispered. No sooner had the words been spoken that a huge, twisted Uruk crashed through the trees a few feet from their hiding place. It looked around, its oddly tiny eyes darting this way and that, trying to locate the hidden hobbits. Pippin held his breath and buried his face in his elder cousin's shirt jacket. Merry put his arm protectively around the youngster and kept his eyes on their predator. His eyes widened in fear as another orc joined the one already in the clearing. The two Uruks shouted at one another in Black Speech. 

Pippin whimpered and Merry tightened his grip around the lad. His heart pounded loudly in his ears. In another moment they would be caught. Merry hardened his will and quickly formulated a plan. He could not allow the foul things to get his cousin. He refused to let them both get discovered. 

"Stay here, Pip. Don't move for anything. Promise me you won't move for anything!" Merry whispered very softly, hardly daring to breathe.

"But Merry-"

"Promise me!"

Pippin stared at his cousin in fear. He mouthed a few soundless words before managing "I promise....I promise, Merry."

Merry managed a grim smile. "Good lad." He moved to get out from beneath the shrubs. Pippin grabbed at his cousin's sleeve in horror. 

"You're not! You're not!"

"I'm going to lead them away, Pip! Stay there! You promised!"

Merry readied himself to run out there and lead the two Uruk's away from Pippin. Without warning a long, hairy arm reached into the bushes and grabbed Pip by the collar, hauling him up and causing him to be scratched by the thorns. 

"Hoy!" Merry shouted as he jumped to his feet, sword in hand. The orc that had grabbed Pippin laughed, a wheezy, scratchy sound. "Halflings!" It cried in triumph. Merry swung at its hand, lobbing it off at the wrist. Pippin fell back into the bushes. The orc howled and held its bleeding hand. The other two orcs snatched at Merry but he ducked away from them, and grabbed Pippin again, running out from the bushes and tearing both their beloved elven cloaks in the process. 

"Run! Run!" He cried.

"I am running!" Pippin shouted back, his voice wavery with frightened tears. The two uninjured Uruk's sped after the hobbits, leaving their comrade bleeding and wailing by the bushes. 

************************************************************

Frodo reached the boats. He stood on the shore, tears streaming from his eyes, hating himself and hating the Ring even more. "Please........Elbereth protect them," he sighed, choking back more tears. He had to be brave. The boats awaited.

*************************************************************

With a final cry Aragorn pulled his sword from his fallen foe. Enemies lay dead all around, but there were more still, coming for them. Nearby, Legolas helped Gimli to his feet. Suddenly the elf's fair head jerked upward, catching sound of something his two companions could not. In his shock, Legolas released Gimli's hand and the dwarf crashed back to the ground.

"What!" hollered Gimli, irritated. He rose to his feet on his own, ready for a biting retort on the elf's strength, but the look on Legolas' face stopped any words from coming. 

"What is it, Legolas?" Aragorn asked, seeing the horror struck look on his friend's face.

"Its the little ones," Legolas cried. "I heard one of them.....he was screaming." A horn screamed through the forest, three short bursts. It was no orc horn. It was the white horn of Gondor.

"Boromir!" cried Aragorn. 

*************************************************************

Pippin suppressed a second wail as he looked over the edge of the cliff he and Merry had come to. Below the dark water of the river swirled. The drop was not very high, ten feet perhaps, but Pippin could not swim. The two orcs started up the hill. Merry stood in front of his younger cousin. They were trapped, he knew, but hope had come out of the forest in the form of Boromir, captain of Gondor. Even as the orcs closed in, the human was running after them, sword drawn and ready, his horn to his lips, calling for help. Perhaps it would be alright after all.

Seeing the man coming to attack, the first Uruk cursed and said to the other, "Take care of that one. I'll get the squeakers." The second Uruk nodded and turned with a yell and a raise of its ax. Boromir jumped to meet the attack. Weapons met and clanged together. 

"Go!" Boromir cried to the dumbstruck hobbits. "Go, now!" 

Merry gritted his teeth. They could not go, not with the other Uruk Hai in their way. They were within arm's reach of it now; it would have them in another few steps. Pippin looked down at the sword in his hand. Was it to be useless? Were he and Merry just to stand there like stones, like mindless prey before the predator? Gulping, Pippin looked back to the orc. Its red eyes gleamed like fire, and Pippin could see Merry and himself reflected in the orcs harsh stare. He felt Merry tense, ready for the inevitable onslaught. Down at the bottom of the hill, Boromir's sword struck true. The big Uruk Hai fell with a shriek, the blade buried up to the hilt in its vitals. Boromir pulled his sword free and blew again three short bursts on the horn of Gondor. Then he charged up the hill. 

The red eyed goblin turned, sensing the man's approach. Merry leapt into action, small sword flying. Pippin hesitated a moment longer before his eyes hardened and with the cry of "for the Shire!" he followed Merry. The orc halted, caught between an angry full sized warrior and two pint sized attackers. Merry and Pippin aimed for the beast's legs, hoping to knock it off guard while it defended against Boromir. The creature howled in anger, but otherwise showed no sign of pain. Boromir struck again and again, but his foe was too swift and strong; every blow was countered. 

Pippin darted around to Boromir's side; hoping to use his small stature to hit a vital target. Merry could not get around; every attempt he made to get in front of the creature was blocked by the orc itself or the danger of being hit by Boromir's swinging blade. And, unbeknownst to Boromir, every hit that he made was driving the orc further and further up the cliff. Merry was getting dangerously close to the edge. 

Arrows began flying out of the shadowy woods. More orcs were coming, but there was no sign of Aragorn or any other of the Company. Boromir did not relent; he had failed in his struggle against the Ring, he would not allow himself to fail at defending Frodo's kin. Guilt and determination drove him on. The orc gained no ground against the angered captain. 

Merry stepped backwards as the orc backed up further. This time, however, there was no ground behind him. With a cry he sprung forward away from the cliff's edge. His arms flailed wildly, and the sword he had carried over such long distances slipped from his grasp and fell into the river below. Pippin saw and cried, "Boromir, Boromir, stop! Stop, you are driving Merry over the side!"

Boromir halted in surprise at Pippin's cry. He was distracted only for a moment, but that was all the Uruk Hai needed. With an enraged grunt it swung its sword. The flat side struck Boromir in the arm with such force that he was thrown back, tumbling down the hill side. 

With a shout Pippin turned, praying that his human friend was not dead. Great relief washed over the youngster as Boromir stood, albeit unsteadily. 

"Pip, run away!" Merry's cry was almost deafening. The red eyed monstrosity snatched at the youngest member of the Fellowship. Merry latched onto the scarred arm and bit as hard as he could. With a curse the orc yanked its arm away, setting Merry off balance. He stumbled backwards, and again was met with nothing beneath his feet. His face contorted in a look of panic and his arms groped frantically for something to latch onto. 

The red eyed Uruk Hai realized its mistake too late, and snatched at its prey, only to be met with air as Merry's cloak eluded the grabbing hands. With a cry Merry tumbled over the edge of the cliff. 

Pippin abandoned all rational thought as he watched his cousin disappear over the edge. A heart broken yell burst from his lips. Tears burned in his eyes, but he did not heed them. Foolishly he attacked the orc from the front, not even coherently planning his movements, just stabbing and slashing wildly. Boromir had risen to his feet and flew to the hobbit's aide. More arrows flew, all aiming for the large warrior. One struck him in the shoulder; he winced but otherwise ignored it. Now the orcs themselves emerged from the trees. They came from all sides; it was as if all of Mordor was upon them. Most went for Boromir. More arrows pierced him: chest, stomach, shoulder. Pain wracked the warrior's body, but still he did not give up. Through the mess of fangs and claws he caught side of Pippin. Tears flew from the halfling's eyes as he attacked the red eyed demon with all that he had. 

Guilt and despair overwhelmed Boromir as another arrow pierced him, splitting the white horn into two pieces. This arrow hit too deep, and Boromir fell two his knees, unable to stand any longer. Through eyes already blurring he saw the orc with the fire red eyes grab Pippin by the wrist and wrench the sword away, tossing it aside like so much garbage. Ignoring the hobbit's kicking and screaming, the demon picked him up and ran to join his brethren. The rest of the orcs ran off with a cry of triumph. Boromir was left bleeding on the ground of Amon Hen. The world around him sounded muffled, as if heard from deep under water. Vaguely Boromir could hear Pippin crying his name. Boromir lowered his head in shame. The dirt beneath his torn body was speckled with blood and tears. The proud warrior of Gondor had utterly failed.

*************************************************************

Merry hit the water on his back with loud splash. Cold black water closed in over his head. The swift current quickly dragged him deeper, and he kicked hard and fast to get to the surface. Thanking the higher powers for being a Brandybuck and knowing how to swim, Merry broke the surface and struggled to stay above water. The land sped past him. The sounds of battle grew fainter and fainter. Three times the lad was tugged back underwater by the unrelenting undertow, and each time he surfaced he grew more tired and weak. He could not reach the shore. He could only allow himself to be taken closer and closer to the falls. 

The water gave another sharp tug, and Merry went under again. This time he could not force his way back up to the surface. Water poured into his mouth and he choked. He arms flailed wildly. Above him, the sun sparkled like crystal through the water. Merry wondered absently if it would be painful to die. 

Suddenly his waving hand was grabbed from above and he was hauled above the water, choking and sputtering. Bewildered and confused, he willed his oxygen deprived eyes to focus. Someone was still holding onto his hand. An orc? No, definitely not an orc. An orc would not save him. Then who........

Merry's eyes focus at last and he looked up into the blue eyes of his rescuer.

"Frodo?!"

TBC

_____________________________________________________________

A/N: Well, that was certainly a new experience. I apologize if the action sequences are not up to par. I will gladly take any suggestions! Next chapter: Frodo and Merry set off on the long path to Mordor. Aragorn says goodbye to a comrade in arms. Legolas mulls over the strangeness of human mortality once again. Gimli sets out to look for Sam, unsure of where the gardener had gone to. Pippin meets Yellow-eyes. Fun for everyone!


	2. The Departure of Meriadoc

Exchanged

A/N: Well now, this took a long time. I must tell you that this chapter was very difficult for me to write, particularly writing Aragorn's character. I'm not used to writing such a serious person. It did, however, give me a good excuse to watch _The Fellowship of the Ring _again. Every time I watch it I get more and more impatient for _The Return of the King_ to come out. *sigh.* I saw _Spirited Away_ recently and I would highly suggest it to anyone that likes fantasy. 

There were a few questions that I was asked about the last chapter. 

Re: The elven boats. My dad pointed out that the boats were elvish and therefore could not sink. That's true, but I don't think that helped Samwise's discomfort in them. Also, just because they do not sink does not mean that they won't be affected by the waves. They just won't capsize.

Re: Merry's swimming ability. A reviewer brought up the fact that Merry could swim (Bravo!! A book reader!! Yea! ^_^). I believe I stated that fact, but I did do it rather vaguely. Therefore, let me explain. Yes, Merry is a Brandybuck and therefore knows how to swim and manage a boat. However the river was very swift and quite deep (to a hobbit, at any rate). Merry could swim but kept getting pulled under by the undertow. All he could do was return to the surface to get air. It was the river that was making him drown, not his lake of swimming abilities. Also, he was very surprised and it hurts to fall 10 feet into water and land on your back (trust me......not fun). Still, I'm sure there will be instances where for whatever reason I goof and create a plot hole or an inconsistency or get a fact wrong. When that happens, please tell me!! I really appreciate it, and it doesn't upset me. In fact, it makes me happy to know that someone is reading my work close enough to pick up on things like that!!

Quote of the day: ".........And he felt that no matter how dark the shadow was there was light and beauty forever beyond its reach." J.R.R. Tolkien: The Return of the King.

To the reviewers:

=): Thank you! ^_^

Ash: I cannot thank you enough!! I truly love it when people let me know their favorite parts of the story. As for keeping the characters in character (...) I'm very glad that I did it right. I grew up hearing theses stories from my dad before I could even read, so the characters are very dear to me and I was hoping that I was doing them justice. Also, I'm glad that Frodo had a concience as well. I agree, the movie had a bit of trouble conveying that, but that's because it could not voice his thoughts very well. (Just so you know, the end of the Fellowship made me cry.........as did the end of the Two Towers...I'm a sappy person, yes.)

Gemstone: Thank you! Here's the more you asked for!! 

Endymion: I am sorry you didn't enjoy the battle scene, though I can certainly agree with you. I, too, thought Helm's Deep was too long in the film. I was very impatient to see more of Frodo and Sam and Merry and Pippin, but there is going to be much more of them in the Extended Edition (43 extra minutes!!). I like to focus more on characters than blood and guts. So hopefully this chapter will tickle your fancy!!

Eloracooper4: Phew....I was worried the action scenes would come off as boring. I'm glad you enjoyed chapter one!! ::Waves flag that says Go Sam!! Then, after the rest of the Fellowship pouts, waves flags for each of the other members.::

Clover: I'm glad you think its creative. I was a bit hesitant about doing this at first, since its so majorly AU, but its turning out to be great fun!! 

Boromirlover: I definetly will keep the story book canon as much as possible, although there are some lines from the films that I just love too much not to use (Boromir's line about following his captain, etc. for example.) 

Siofra: Well I am glad you decided to chance clicking on my fic! I am very happy that it surprised you. Thanks, and thanks!!

Bookworm2000: Yeah!! Someone who read my preview!! Happy you enjoyed it, and I'm relieved my preview had the desired effect! Cheers for all!!

Natta: I aim to please!! Here's the next chapter. About Merry's swimming, please refer to above note. Also, thanks for pointing that out!! It makes me glad that you took the time to notice that. ^_^

Violet Raven: When I got your review I yelled "Yay!! V.R. is back!!" Thus frightening my parents considerably. I'm glad you liked it. So much encouragement makes me want to ditch school and sit in my corner writing all day...

Chapter Two

The Departure of Meriadoc

The horn of Gondor had ceased to sound. No longer did its throaty bellows echo through the trees of Parth Galen. Aragorn ran towards the glade where he had last heard it, naked sword gleaming in the pale morning light. Legolas and Gimli ran about, fighting the remaining orcs with a passion freshly kindled by the ringing of the white horn. Aragorn did not heed the demons, and had soon left the battle behind him. The cries of ringing swords grew more distant, as did the snarls and howls of the Uruk Hai. 

Breathing hard and frantic Aragorn reached the mauled and blood darkened hill side where Boromir son of Denethor had made his final desperate stand. No living being could immediately be seen; though dead orcs and their body parts littered the torn earth. 

The battle wearied ranger stood stiffly in a state of awed shock. "What great evil has befallen here?" He said aloud. 

Movement off to the side caught Aragorn's eye. Quickly he spun around, sword raised, ready to attack. Aragorn recognized the bleeding face and immediately the sword arm lowered to his side. Boromir leaned with his back against a tree, having dragged himself over to it. His sword lay by him, broken at the hilt. His horn was by his side, cloven in two. Black feathered arrows protruded from his body like pins in a cushion. He looked at Aragorn with eyes sad and cloudy.

"It is you," Boromir stated plainly. Aragorn went to him and knelt by his side, looking over the many wounds. 

"Do not speak," Aragorn hushed, trying to look closer at the arrow wound near Boromir's heart. With every breath Boromir grew weaker, and Aragorn knew that speaking would only quicken the process. Death sat on the man's shoulder. 

"I have failed, I have failed you all," Boromir lamented. He grasped Aragorn's hand and looked pleadingly into the ranger's face. "Forgive me. I tried to take the Ring from Frodo. "

Aragorn looked steadily into his companion's face. This news came as no shock; he had suspected as much. He remained silent. Boromir shut his eyes in regret. 

"They have taken Pippin." He took a shuddering breath. "And Merry has fallen." A sob escaped from his throat. Aragorn took Boromir's hand. Death was near. 

"You have not failed," Aragorn assured. "You have conquered. You have realized your mistake. Few great men do the same."

"We shall never ride to Gondor now, my friend. I shall never see the banners of my people, of our people," Boromir opened his eyes again. "You must save my people, Aragorn. I would have followed you my captain, my brother." Boromir smiled wanly. "My king." 

Aragorn tightened his grip on Boromir's hand. "The White City shall not fall. The trumpets of Gondor shall still herald your coming."

"You must tell Frodo," Boromir gasped, his speech growing slower and more strained. "You must tell him that I am sorry." His last words faded, his face relaxed, at peace at last. 

Aragorn remained knelt by Boromir's side. "Be at peace." He whispered. He kissed the dead man's brow and released his hand. "Son of Gondor. Truly it is I that has failed. For I saw the madness in you........and did nothing to halt it." 

Grief took him and he stood silently in the wood with the sun on his face, crying tears that had not come for many years. So it was that Legolas and Gimli found him. Gimli stood silently, leaning on his axe, his eyes downcast. He had lost many comrades to the harsh reality of war, and through all the company had been put through together, the lose of another of their number was a heavy blow to the dwarf indeed. 

Harder still it was for Legolas. Immortal, he did not understand the concept of human mortality. If Gandalf's fall had confused him, Boromir's death in battle perplexed him all the more. For Boromir's face did not look pained nor tortured; but at peace, more even than in life. *The gift of man,* Legolas thought to himself. *It is no pain for the one who has passed...* He looked at Aragorn's grief stricken face and Gimli's watering eyes. *But for the ones who are left behind.* 

"We have come too late," Aragorn said at length, sheathing his sword. "Boromir has fallen defending the hobbits, and I fear he has not been the only one of our company to perish on this day."

"The hobbits!" cried Gimli. "Where are they? Where is Frodo?"

"I do not know," answered Aragorn wearily. "I do not believe Frodo was here. 'They have taken Pippin, and Merry has fallen,' Boromir said to me."

Silence fell once again, the three companions numbed by the reality of Aragorn's words. 

"Fallen...." Gimli said slowly. Legolas went to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder, to comfort the dwarf as well as support himself. The thought of one of the cheerful little folk having been killed was like a wound to his own heart. He refused to believe it until he had solid proof. 

"If Merry has fallen then where is his body?" Legolas asked, sounding more angry than he meant to." Surely we will not leave he and Boromir out here, where the elements and foul creatures could set wind and tooth to them." Aragorn sighed heavily and turned to regard the elf. 

"I do not know where Meriadoc lays. It is possible he has fallen under the bodies of one of these orcs." Aragorn detested the words he was saying. Surely whatever good that had aided them so far on the quest had abandoned them. Without a word, Legolas began searching through the bodies of the fallen orcs, muttering prayers in his native tongue as he did so. Gimli laid his axe aside and began helping the elf. Together they moved the bodies of the goblins aside and searched the area for the tiny body of the brave halfling. 

Aragorn watched them with a weeping heart. When they found nothing in the mess of orcs they moved to check the surrounding brush. Aragorn bowed his head a moment, looking at Boromir again. The man's death had given them few answers and many painful questions. *Gandalf's faith in me was ill-placed,* Aragorn thought. Then he raised his head up and forced the self-pity back deep inside himself. He strode over to the hillside and began searching through the bushes there. In one he found a small blade, leaf-bladed, and damasked in gold and red. No more than a dagger it was in his hand, but it was the right size for a half-tall hobbit. Aragorn held it up sadly for his friends to see.

"Here is one of their blades. If it is Pippin's, then he is unarmed." Aragorn slipped the blade through his belt. "I shall hope, against hope, that I may return it to him." 

Legolas and Gimli watched sorrowfully, then returned to their labors. Aragorn returned to searching the hillside. As he looked, his trained eyes fell upon the markings of a struggle. Aragorn knelt closer, looking at the markings. They led all the way up the hill. Creeping up the cliff like a snake, Aragorn examined the tracks, making sure not to disturb them. There were many orc prints, but at least two prints did not belong to any orc. They were hobbit marks, one smaller than the other. They led away from each other, the larger ones moving towards the edge of the cliff. 

Putting things together, Aragorn rushed to the top of the hill. The hobbit tracks dropped off suddenly, and did not double back down the hill. "Merry has fallen...." Aragorn pondered. "Perhaps Boromir did not mean fallen in death.....but....." 

"Legolas! Gimli!" Aragorn cried, turning. Legolas and Gimli looked up fearfully, sure that he had found what they were looking for. Instead, the man gestured over the cliff side. "Merry has fallen, perhaps not in death, but over the cliff." 

Gimli remained where he was, looking confused but Legolas bounded over the fallen orcs and rushed up the hill side. He looked down at the swirling waters. 

"The waters are treacherous, but not so that one could not survive them," He said, hope welling in his eyes. He turned to the ranger excitedly. "Aragorn, can the hobbits swim?" 

"I am not sure...." Aragorn trailed off thoughtfully. 

Legolas looked off into the distance, shading his eyes with his long hand. "I cannot see far. The river curves around after half a mile. He may have been swept far downstream." 

*************************************************************"Frodo?!" Merry clung to the hand that held him. Frodo stared down at him, his world spinning out of control. What had happened? How had Merry ended up in the river? Frodo shuddered at the thought of what would have happened to his cousin if he had not seen him floundering in the rapids, so close to the falls. As it was the current was still trying to tug the Brandybuck away from the boat. Frodo gripped his cousin's wrist and held him tightly, fighting not to be dragged over the side as well. 

"Hold on! I shall not let you go, but I must paddle away from the falls." Frodo guided Merry's hand to the side of the boat and Merry held on for dear life. Frodo quickly took up the paddle and using all his strength forced the elven craft away from the roaring falls. It was difficult, but once Merry regained his wits he was able to help guide the boat a little bit. At last they reached the eastern shore. Merry scrambled up onto the bank, dripping wet and shivering and immediately collapsed to the ground. His shaking legs would carry him no further at the moment. Frodo pulled the boat in away from the river and stepped out of the boat himself. Now that panic had left him he felt very confused and very, very tired. He slid down, sitting with his back to the boat wall. 

"Merry....where......how......." Frodo stammered. 

Merry wiped water from his eyes and looked at his cousin. "You.....you are leaving, aren't you?" 

Frodo lowered his eyes guiltily. Subconsciously, his hand sought the comfort of the Ring around his neck. Finding it, Frodo closed his hand around it and nodded sadly. 

"I must," he said. 

Merry swallowed and crawled so he was sitting in front of Frodo. "But Pippin......Sam..........the others, they are still...." He choked. 

Frodo covered his face with his free hand. "I know, Merry, I know. I am not such a fool......I heard the sounds of the orcs as I fled."

Merry stared at him, his eyes drifting downwards to the hand that clutched the Ring. Sudden anger surged in him and he had the sudden urge to reach out and tear the Ring from Frodo's grasp, but he did not, knowing that would do more harm than good. "We cannot just leave them to fight alone. I must go back!"

With a despairing cry Frodo drew his hand away from his face and thrust the Ring away from him. "You can not go back! You've no choice, Merry. You cannot go back now; you'll be killed!" Frodo turned his eyes away from Merry and looked back towards the Western shore. "You must come with me, though I wish it were not so. I am sorry, so sorry..." He leaned on the boat overcome with regret. 

Merry stared at his cousin, not understanding. "Come where?" he choked. 

Slowly, slowly, Frodo looked back at Merry with hazy eyes. "Mordor...." he breathed. 

*************************************************************

"I shall go down to the shore and follow it back to the camp." Legolas said as he looked about the area for unbroken arrows; his quiver was empty. Gimli watched as his elf friend spoke in hasty tones, hardly looking at Aragorn or himself in his haste. "It may be that I shall find the little one on the bank, by the waterside." 

"Legolas, I agree that we must not abandon hope until it has completely forsaken us, but I begrudge the delay. I do not think Pippin is dead; did you notice how the orcs left us soon after Boromir's horn ceased to sound? I guess that they came for the halflings, and finding one of them they fled. Perhaps they believed they had captured the ringbearer." 

"What then of the true Ringbearer," Gimli asked. "Where is he, and the other, his servant."

"I guess that Frodo took that ambush for his advantage. I guess that he left us at last, and I can only reason that Sam went with him," Aragorn said. 

"But you cannot know for certain." Legolas straightened up and slung his half-filled quiver onto his back. "He ran off, did he not, before the battle started?"

Aragorn thought for a moment. "Yes. I did not see Samwise after that."

"I will go look for the lad," Gimli said stoutly. "And if there are any orcs left out there straggling behind they will have Gimli the Dwarf to pay for the death of our companion." 

"Are we to split up then?" Aragorn asked. "I would not council that, for that is what caused this disaster in the beginning."

"The orcs have fled, Aragorn. No doubt they were here for the purpose you suggested. I feel no more evil here, only a great sadness. It is as if the woods weep for the fallen," said Legolas. 

Aragorn lowered his head for a moment and closed his eyes. New lines of worry creased his brown, and he looked far older than he had even the previous day. "All my previous decisions have gone astray. We shall not abandon any of our company if there is hope that they still live. You shall have your wishes. I shall tend to the fallen; I will not leave one of my kind out in the wilderness. He should have a funeral, at the least. 

"But I beg you to come back before the sun is high. There is yet another decision we must make." What the decision was Aragorn would not say. Legolas and Gimli left him and he sat there beside the body of Boromir for a long time, deep in thought. After a time, the emotions became too much, and Aragorn son of Arathorn held tight to the white gem around his neck and wept. 

*************************************************************

"Stop that racket!!" 

Pippin was flung harshly to the ground, causing his cries to break off abruptly. Although his back now throbbed from the impact he quickly scurried backwards, trying to get away from the red-eyed orc who had dropped him. He did not get far, however, before the orc gave a shout and grabbed his ankle, effectively preventing Pippin from going any farther. Frantic, Pippin tried to turn over onto his belly and get away that way. The orc pulled him back roughly and Pippin yelped at the pain in his ankle. 

"Stupid little rat," the orc growled under his breath, glaring at the frightened hobbit with anger and hatred in his eyes. He called to his kinsman in the twisted black language that was orc speak, gesturing at Pippin angrily as he did so. 

Pippin shut his eyes, willing everything to go away. He was terrified, alone, and weary with grief. The sight of Merry tumbling off the cliff into the swirling waters below replayed constantly through his mind, as did the scene of Boromir, brave and strong, shot full of arrows trying desperately to save the two halflings. Pippin had no idea why the orcs had not killed him or where they were taking him. All he knew at the moment was that he was completely and utterly at the mercy of the demonic once-elves. 

More claws grabbed Pippin's hands, forcing them together in front of his chest. He made himself open his eyes. The orcs, tired of his kicking and flailing, were binding him at the wrists and ankles. Pippin's possible chances of escaping were being stifled with that rope. Filled with a sudden fury the hobbit thrashed violently, trying anything to keep that dirty rope from tightening around his wrists. 

One of the orcs laughed at Pippin's attempts and said his red-eyed companion "Looks like you're having a bit of difficulty with this runt, Ologghash. Make sure he don't bite you, or you'll get the foaming disease. And that would be terrible, wouldn't it?"

Ologghash shot the orc a death glare and pulled the ropes taut around Pippin's wrists with a final tug. Pippin stopped struggling, his hope fading. Who would help him now? Aragorn and the others would no doubt be going after Frodo. Pippin shut his eyes again, trying to find some good in the situation. At least Frodo and Sam had escaped, hadn't they? But Merry, poor Merry.......

Pippin shut his eyes again. Several tears escaped the confines of his lashes and cut two streaks in the dirt and grim on his cheeks. He felt himself be lifted again, felt Ologghash running. Pippin concentrated on the feel of air on his face until at last evil dreams took him and he passed into restless sleep.

*************************************************************

Gimli strode through the forest, his axe held at chest level, poised for an easy attack should any evil thing still be living and lying in wait for an easy kill. Cautiously the dwarf made his way back to the campsite where the Fellowship had been stationed what seemed days ago, though it had only been a few hours in reality. The bodies of fallen orcs littered the ground. Gimli stepped over them as he went, keeping his eyes on the ground looking for any clue as to where Frodo or Sam may have gone. However, the dwarf had not the scouting skills that Aragorn had nor the keen sight and hearing of Legolas. Try as he might, Gimli could not find a clear trail of where either hobbit had gone. 

With a deep sigh Gimli halted and leaned on his axe in a grove of trees. The campsite was nearby and still he had found nothing, no track, no print, no anything. All was dead around him, just like in the vast chambers of Khazad-dum. No hope, just a vast empty wasteland full of death. 

Suddenly enraged Gimli raised up his axe and shook it. "Death!! Death and torment!! Do any of you foul things still live out there!? Gimli the Dwarf wishes to repay you!!" Nothing. There was no answer, only the echo of Gimli's own voice. The orcs had all fled or been killed, as Legolas had said. Still Gimli's anger did not abate. He needed something to hit, something to take his anger out on. Whirling around he swung his axe at the nearest tree. It struck deep, causing a huge rent in the trunk. 

Gimli immediately pulled the axe back and looked around. If Legolas had seen that he would have probably had a conniption fit. Luckily the elf was no where in sight. Gimli too felt guilty; what would the Lady say? Remorsefully Gimli put a rough hand over the cut in the trunk and leaned on it as if trying to convey his regret over his action. If the situation had been less grave he would have laughed. Apparently Legolas' influence had effected the dwarf, at no fault of Gimli's own. He suspected the Lady Galadriel had more to do with it than the woodland prince and that comforted him a bit. No influence of Galadriel's could ever be embarrassing. 

Still leaning on the tree and thinking of the Lady of Light, Gimli cast his eyes on the ground. It was then that something caught his eye, glinting in the sunlight that peeked through the trees. Frowning Gimli looked closer, bending down and laying his axe on the forest floor. It was a blade, currently half buried by the torn earth. At the moment only the tip was visible but even Gimli could tell it was no orc weapon. Other thoughts forgotten of the moment the dwarf brushed away the dirt and fallen leaves and branches and pulled the short blade out. Immediately Gimli noticed the similarities between this blade and the one Aragorn had found in the bushes. There was no mistake. This short dagger was one of the weapons born by the hobbits. 

Clutching the hilt of the blade tightly in his hand Gimli looked around the grove again. Many orc prints crossed over the spoiled land this way and that; there were several severed body parts as well. The dwarf quickly picked up his battle axe in his free hand and stood up. Part of the mystery appeared to have been solved. 

*************************************************************

Frodo slung his pack onto his back and turned to gaze at the Western shore for the final time. Merry stood behind him, feeling as if he was in a dream. None of this could possibly be real. He and Frodo, setting out to Mordor alone? They could not possibly do it; Merry did not even have any supplies or a weapon. Besides that, they could not really be leaving Pippin and Sam behind in the midst of battle, could they? Perhaps Frodo believed that he was protecting the others. Merry could not be sure. He was not sure of anything anymore. 

Silently the Brandybuck watched as Frodo stared back at the opposite side of the river. A tiny tear slipped from the corner of Frodo's eye, slide down his pale cheek, and plummeted to the dirt below. "Namarie...." Merry heard Frodo whisper. Any anger Merry had had towards his cousin melted away at the sight. He realized that Frodo probably felt as wretched about the entire thing as he did, and as much as Merry did not want to admit it, Frodo was right. They couldn't go back. The quest had to be carried out and wasn't the entire reason Merry had even left Buckland in the first place to help his elder cousin on the journey? Was that not the reason he was part of the Fellowship, so that the errand would not fail? 

Full of pity, Merry put his hand on Frodo's frail shoulder. Frodo looked back at him sadly, then said, "Come on, Merry. We must go before I lose heart. I know Aragorn shall look after them. I only hope Sam understands....." 

"I am sure that he will, Frodo. He understands you better than he understands himself. He guessed your mind before the orcs attacked," said Merry. Frodo looked glanced back at the opposite shore and turned away, feeling as if his heart would break. Then he walked up the bank, away from the boat and into the forest. Merry followed, half heartedly. He got several steps away before he could help himself no longer and turned to look back just as Frodo had. "I am with you, Peregrin Took," He said to the empty air. "You had better not forget that." Then he ran after his cousin as the sun sparkled on the water of the Rauros, a beauty of the afternoon that contradicted the horror of the morning.

TBC

*************************************************************

A/N: Yes, this is the end of the chapter. I meant to have Pippin meant yellow-eyes (who will receive a name in the next chapter ^_^), but I decided I liked this place to end. Also, I tried to play on the theme of "a higher power" in this chapter. Certain things happen in a chain of events (Gimli's striking the tree then finding Sam's sword because of it, for example.) I know this chapter hopped around a lot, but after the next chapter the story will likely switch to one storyline per chapter (Merry and Frodo in one, then Pippin and Sam in the next, then Aragorn and company, etc.). And for any of you wondering "Where's Sam?!" He will be in the next chapter to be sure. He was supposed to be in the part with Yellow-eyes and Pippin but since that got moved so did poor Samwise. 

Ologghash=Troll fire (Black speech.) Note: Accents don't work on my computer.

Namarie=Farewell (Quenya.)

Any questions or suggestions for further chapters, let me know!!

Next Chapter: Pippin wakes up to find that he is not the only hobbit captured by the orcs. Yellow-eyes is thoroughly unpleasant. Sam comes face to face with Grishnakh, who knows that the reason behind the halfling's capture....

Meanwhile, Merry and Frodo are making their towards Mordor and Merry decides they need to find more food for the long journey ahead. Incidentally, he has a bit of an accident with Frodo's pack.....

Gimli reports his find to Aragorn. Legolas discovers Merry's fate. They bid farewell to Boromir over the falls. A decision must be made.....

Also, guest appearances by Haldir of Lorien and the Lady Galadriel....


	3. Of Food and Hard Choices

****

Chapter Three

A/N: My deepest apologies for the length of time it took to update this chapter. I got busy with Simple and Clean, and the end of school. But now is the summer holiday, and I shall have more time to write. This chapter gave me headaches. I think a few of the characters (particularly Aragorn....grr...) may be a little out of character, something that I hate. Still, you must trust me! There will be something later on where this attitude will come into play in a helpful way (believe it or not.) 

I must tell you that Galadriel's vision in her mirror is very important. ::coughforeshadowingcough::. But that's all I will say about that now. (Mwahahahaha....^_^)

Quote of the day: "What's another word for 'thesaurus'?" -Billy Boyd

To the reviewers:

aelfgifu: Why thank you! I, too, enjoy reviews, and I did take a look at your fic! I daresay its rather addicting. For a while I couldn't get "evil Merry" out of this story....

endymion: Well, so far everything is essentially the same (besides Merry going with Frodo and Sam going with Pip or course) but that may change soon. This is an AU after all. Don't worry, I won't do something TOO drastic. ::shifty eyes::  
  
Ash: Wee!! What a lovely long review! Oh, and you can be sure that Merry's sense of justice will cause problems in the future. Keep this in mind: Merry is not as bound with love to Frodo as Sam is. Sam and Merry are very different in many ways. Ex: Sam is quite subservient and Merry is more of a leader. He's not quite the outdoorsmen Sam is, nor does he have that "maternal flair" to him that Frodo will need later on as the Ring wears on him. 

EloraCooper4: You're right in thinking that Merry and Gollum won't get along, to say the least. ::waves flag since it made EloraCooper4 laugh. This one says "send food and money."

Natta: Hmm. I'd much like to read your story! Is it on ff.net? And thank you for the kind compliment.

Violet Raven: I'm very glad you liked Gimli's part. I think he's underrated, poor lamb. ::runs from Gimli who does not like to be called a 'lamb':: Oops......Haldir didn't make it into this chapter ::sob:: I tried, but I ran out of time/space/opportunities. ::ducks::

Bookworm2000: Oooh, another long review! Will Sam undo the Nazgul? Hmmm....I'll tell you this. Merry pledges his loyalty to Theoden and thus becomes a warrior of Rohan. Can you see Sam pledging loyalty to anyone but Frodo? Will he defeat the Nazgul? Hmm....that is the question, isn't it? ::evil grin:: Oh, and you are quite right about the temptation of the Ring bit. Merry is going to have problems, and Frodo is not going to help......

****

Of Food and Hard Choices

Sam was lost in a dizzying maze of rock and stone. Tunnels turned this way and that. Each time he tried to follow a path he would come to a dead end and each time he tried to retrace his steps backwards the walls seemed to shift, never remaining as they were when Sam first passed them. It was cold in this maze, cold and lonely. Where had everyone gone? Where were Strider and Boromir? What of Legolas and Gimli? Where under the stars were Merry and Pippin, and Mr. Frodo? 

Stumbling against one of the walls, the little hobbit rubbed at his temples wearily then gathered his breath and called as loudly as he could manage "Mr. Frodo? Mr. Frodo where are you?" His voice echoed on the stone paths but none answered him. After waiting a moment he tried again, only to have his voice echo once more and then fly away on the wind. 

Worried, afraid, and becoming panicked, Samwise pressed on. A dull throbbing pain began to grow in his skull. Every step he took it intensified until it became so great that his vision began to blur and he sat down where he stood, unable to go on any longer. Then somewhere off in the distance a bell began to toll. Over and over it rang, causing Sam's headache to swell even more. *_Dong.......dong.......* _ Over and over it went. Sam closed his eyes and covered his poor ears with his hands, calling for Frodo again as the world swam around him......

A sharp jolt shocked Sam awake. Groaning he tried to open his eyes but the migraine that held him refused to allow it. The second Sam's eyelids started to life, the harsh light of day stung them and made his head scream in anguish. Wincing, the hobbit quickly shut his eyes again. Where was he? What had happened? Where was Frodo? At the moment the gardener could come up with no answers for any of these questions. His mind was cloudy and dizzied still; he had trouble deciphering weather or not he was in fact really awake. Oh how his head throbbed! 

_*_Come on Sam, * he thought to himself. *Won't do nobody any good laying here. They're all probably lookin' for you, and here you are sleepin'....* 

This was another puzzle. Had he fallen asleep on watch? Had he fallen while walking or........

Deciding that he would think better sitting up, Sam moved to push himself up with his hands only to find that he could not. Something held them together; something coarse and thick, he could feel now. Upon trying to move his legs he found that he could not move those as well. Sam's stomach sank. He knew this was definitely not a good sign. He had to see what was going on around him, and where he was. Bracing himself for the inevitable blinding pain, Sam forced one eye to open. As he expected the light was painful but he forced himself to bear it and after a few seconds the pain lessened and the glare subsided a bit, allowing him to see. Immediately he wished he hadn't. Orcs. Orcs all around.

************************************************************************

Aragorn studied the short blade in Gimli's outstretched hand. The dwarf was still panting heavily from the run back to the clearing where Aragorn waited. He had made it back at an astonishing rate; no doubt even Legolas would have to compliment the time when he returned from his scouting trip. 

"Is it...is it...." Gimli tried in between heavy breaths. "Is it...blast it all...." Straightening up and handing the blade to the ranger all together the dwarf took in a large breath, held it for a moment, then let it all out in a slow _whoosh_. "Does it belong to Master Samwise?" Gimli said quickly. 

Aragorn held the dagger in his calloused hands and gazed at the workmanship. It was unmistakable that it was indeed one of the swords of Westernesse that the hobbits had carried so far. Judging from where Gimli had said he had found it, the ranger could guess that it could only be Sam's. With a darkened heart Aragorn nodded. 

"Well then we've got the sword," Gimli said, taking in a final strained breath and tightening his belt. "But where's the hobbit that goes with it?"

Frowning, Aragorn stuck the blade under his belt alongside Pippin's. Then, regarding the dwarf, he said, "Taken, along with Peregrin, I would assume. I have thought long, sitting here. If indeed Frodo has left for Mount Doom alone, then there is little we can do to aid him. The orcs move swift, but we may catch them yet and reclaim those stolen from us. We cannot help Frodo, but we may help his kin. And, though it may be thought a lesser reason, I promised Boromir ere he passed that I would not let the White City fall. I must hold to that promise. I must go to Gondor, after we rescue our friends or the pursuit proves useless."

Aragorn cast his eyes to the ground briefly and muttered something like a prayer before looking back at Gimli who stood stoically and sadly, hand absently gripping the handle of his axe. "As for Legolas and yourself, friend Gimli, I hold neither of you to accompany me, nor Merry either if he is found. You may go where you choose, to follow the orcs or to pursue Frodo to whatever end he may come."

Now Gimli's eyes raised up to meet the ranger's. "Is it all in vain then? The dark lord has not won and yet you speak as if there's no hope left." 

"I speak only what I feel in my heart," Aragorn said, voice raising slightly. "If Frodo has gone on alone then what hope do we have that he should come to the mountain of fire, that he will not succumb to the will of the Ring and become corrupted? Elrond sent with the ring bearer nine companions so that the errand would not fail; the nine walkers have been scattered and it is as if the council had never met. Frodo began with one companion. Now he is left with none. He is worse off than when he started."

"Is that truly how you feel?" a soft voice said from behind Gimli. The dwarf turned as Legolas emerged from the trees silently, a look of subtle anger etched on his face. 

"You have returned!" Gimli exclaimed then fell grimly silent as no hobbit emerged after the elf. 

"Do you wait until the path turns foul to wander from it?" Legolas said, impolitely ignoring the dwarf and coming to stand before Aragorn. "Do you hope when the sky is bright but despair when the darkness comes? Do you surrender when the fight grows hardest?"

"I have surrendered nothing," Aragorn said, turning from the elf and walking back towards the body of Boromir. "I have surrendered nothing because all has been taken!" The ranger exclaimed with a flourish of a callused hand.

"All has not been taken!" Legolas cried indignantly. "You live. Gimli lives. I live. Not all of the nine walkers have been scattered; this alone should give you reason for hope. But if it does not, I tell you this: the ring bearer lives as well, for I have seen a boat on the eastern shore. I do not think he was alone." 

"What?" Gimli cried. Aragorn halted his step and urged the elven prince to continue. 

"Long I walked along the shore, searching with eyes and ears for any sign of Meriadoc. I found none and upon reaching the camp, I too despaired. But I did not give up hope, for our camp had not been touched save by friendly hands. I waded into the water and looked across the river and saw, pulled up onto the eastern bank, one of our boats. And off in the distance I saw the shapes of two small persons. I believe Merry may have gone with Frodo, though how the little one managed to avoid the falls escapes me. No doubt more of the halflings' luck," Legolas finished with a slight smile on his fair face. 

Gimli gave a shout of joy and raised his axe in the air in triumph, but Aragorn remained thoughtfully silent. 

Legolas' smile grew and he glided over to the man to place a thin hand on the ranger's shoulder. "I stood long in the shadows, letting you say what you would. You shall not go alone either, my friend. I shall accompany you, and we shall reclaim our friends. Your friends are with you Aragorn." 

With a turn of his head Aragorn caught the bright eyes of the elven prince and saw there hope and courage. Once more his hand sought the pendant of the Evenstar that hung always round his neck. Clutching the gem, the man closed his eyes and tried to draw strength from she who had bestowed the pendant upon him. It was a while before he reopened his eyes and in the meantime his two companions stood quietly; Legolas patiently waiting for his friend to regain his peace and Gimli thoughtfully thinking. 

At length the ranger nodded and the smallest of smiles graced his lips. " Indeed your story restores some hope, though it may not be much. Still..." He clasped Legolas's shoulder. "I gratefully accept your offer, friend elf." 

Now Gimli stepped forward, saying good naturedly, "Well then, I suppose I can't leave a man and an elf to their own devices in the wilderness. You will not rid yourselves of this dwarf that easily."

Legolas laughed and Aragorn's small smile grew. He was much reminded of the day the council had first met when Legolas and Gimli had first laid down their arms for the Ringbearer. A sudden strong feeling came over the ranger, a knowledge that though Frodo may be beyond his reach there was still some greater good that he could accomplish. The wind blew through his tangled mane, and Aragorn felt that this new knowledge was sent by his beloved Undomiel. 

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"Frodo?" Merry queried, slowing his pace down a bit to walk alongside his elder cousin. Frodo did not answer; in fact, he was gazing ahead, biting his lower lip and did not even appear to have heard. 

"Frodo?" Merry asked again, this time louder. 

Frodo blinked, then hummed and looked at his companion. "I'm sorry, Merry. Did you ask me something?"

"No I haven't, not yet anyway," Merry said, deciding to ignore Frodo's vacant daydreaming for the moment. "I was just wondering if you knew exactly where it is we're heading for. Other than the obvious, I mean."

Frodo sighed loudly and readjusted his pack. "We shall continue east. Gandalf showed me maps of this area when we were staying in Rivendell, but that was so very long ago....I can no longer remember what was on those maps, and even if I could I doubt if they would be a great help to us. They were drawn more than a few years ago, and I suspect the land has changed since then."

"If you had only let me go retrieve my belongings," Merry said, stepping over a large rock. "I stowed one of those maps in there. I was fascinated by it and thought it may be useful. Though a lot of good it will do now."

"You know you could not go back," Frodo said shortly, now stepping over the rock in his turn. 

"Yes, yes, I know." Now it was Merry who sighed. "It would have bee useful though. And not just the map, either. I don't suppose you thought about food for two, have you?"

"I have several weeks worth of lembas."

"Good. And after that?" Merry quipped, looking over his shoulder at Frodo, who had fallen behind again. 

Frodo's eyes were downcast. "I do not expect the journey to take longer than that."

Merry turned his eyes back ahead, trying to think of a way to raise his cousin's spirits. "I can set snares fairly well. Boromir....." Merry trailed off thinking of the brave man and wondering what had befallen him and Pippin as well. Pippin had screamed as Merry fell; was it for his cousin or because an orc had...had...

Merry swallowed heavily. He would do Frodo no good by thinking of dark things. "Boromir taught Pip and I in Rivendell," the Brandybuck continued. 

"Oh?" Frodo returned politely. 

Merry nodded. "I daresay I was better at it that Pippin was if only because Pip became excited whenever anything would creep remotely near his trap and jumped up, frightening whatever it was away."

Frodo smiled, but said nothing. He did not have the heart to tell his cousin that they did not have the necessary items needed to set traps, nor the time. Frodo now felt forever pressured; the flowing of the hours was aggravating him. He hoped they would reach Emyn Muil soon, so that he and his ill-fated companion could begin the last leg of the journey. 

"........have to do something about it," Merry was now saying. Frodo looked up. The Brandybuck was now quite a ways ahead of him and was turning around frequently to make sure Frodo was still following. His cloak whipped around him every time he turned and Frodo began to watch the movement. As Merry continued to speak the ringbearer watched to flowing of the fabric, becoming entranced with the motions. Up it went, down it went, over Merry's shoulder. It sent dancing shadows over the sunlit ground and soon Frodo began to watch those too. It was making him dreadfully tired. How long had they been walking anyway? Surely it hadn't been that long, an hour or so at the very most. Then why did his pack feel so heavy? Why did his eyelids droop? 

Grief and hunger (for Frodo had resisted eating for several days, as it made him feel ill in the stomach) was beginning to take its toll on the ringbearer. The next time Merry turned around it was with a startled cry as cousin stumbled then fell over a stone.

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Grishnakh tore at his meat greedily, grateful for a brief respite from all the running, all the endless running under the wretched sun. Though he and his kind could stand the harsh rays they still bit at him and stung his eyes. The other orcs were milling around the area as well, some eating as Grishnakh was, many quarrelling, and some keeping guard (though Grishnakh himself did not think there was anything be watching for). The orcs knew they would not be stopping long, only to wait for the other goblin-party to join them, with whatever prisoners they managed to capture. 

Grishnakh looked down at his party's own captive. It was a pitiful thing, lying bound and unconscious on the ground with a nasty gash on its forehead. It had roused itself a little while earlier, groaning and struggling the tiniest bit. It had opened its eyes for a moment and Grishnakh saw that they were large, brown, frightened eyes clouded by the head trauma. It hadn't stayed away long, which was lucky for the pitiful creature, for Grishnakh was its guard and he did not want his "guest" awake so soon. Now it lay still, breathing shallowly. It looked ridiculously fragile. One would wonder why it was wanted alive, this weak little thing. 

One would wonder, but only if they didn't know what Grishnakh the great knew. He knew that one of these creatures carried something of extreme value, and he was _sure_ that this one was the one. He could feel it, feel the power of this unnamed valuable. And he wanted it. He wanted it and he would get it, when the time was right. Then let those cursed Isengarders try to order him about!

Grunting, the orc finished his meat and spat. Speaking of the Isengarders, a distant horn call told him that Ologgash was coming. 

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_"His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest;_

And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.

O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze

To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days."

The funeral boat of Boromir drifted down the great river towards the mighty falls. His elven-cloak was set behind his dark head as his funeral pillow, and his hands were folded peacefully on his breast. The split horn of Gondor was laid beside him, never to sound again. On the shore of the Anduin, Gimli, Aragorn, and Legolas stood watching, each sending prayers of peace in their own tongues. They watched until the boat holding the eldest Son of Denethor disappeared over the falls. Rauros roared on unchanging.

At last Aragorn spoke. "They will look for him from the White Tower, but he will not return from mountain or from sea."

"Perhaps you shall return in his stead, Aragorn," said Legolas, still looking at the falls. "Perhaps your coming will lessen Gondor's grief."

"Let us not speak of it ere we arrive at the White City," Aragorn said, gazing at his hands, which were now clad in the gauntlets of Gondor, white tree showing proudly. Aragorn had taken them from the body of Boromir, in hopes that they would lend him strength and serve as a sharp reminder that even good could be corrupted by evil.

Then, without a said word from anyone the three remaining members of the Fellowship left the western shore to begin their own journey.

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Galadriel stared down into the still water of the Mirror. Only moments before it had churned with visions black and violent. 

~_The company rested on the bank of a river, arguing. Merry sat with Pippin asleep in his lap. Sam attempted to get Frodo to eat. Then there was Boromir, once strong and proud now weeping and corrupted. Sam drove back an unseen foe. Frodo lay asleep in a dark tunnel, the ring clasped in his hand. Merry faced the leader of the Nazgul, a blonde maid beside him. Pippin knelt before a throne. Frodo and Sam lay asleep, hand in hand, at the foot of a jagged mountain. Aragorn, flaming sword in hand, ascended a staircase. Merry lay bleeding at the foot of a hill. Legolas stood weeping beside a raised mound. Sam knelt sobbing on the ground as a black form rose up behind him. Pippin sat in a chair, staring at nothing as flames engulfed the curtains behind him. Lothlorien burned. A great army poured forth from the Black Gates of Mordor. Frodo, small and afraid, wandered aimlessly over rocky terrain, his hand desperately clutching the chain around his neck.~_

The Queen of Light knew that these were merely visions. They told what could be, not what was. Still she gazed into the water. It remained motionless, refusing to give anymore clues. She stood there long, knowing something unforeseen had happened in the Fellowship. How this would effect the future, even she could not tell. 

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"Frodo? Frodo? Frodo!!"

A light slap to the face brought Frodo to his senses. He looked up wearily into the strained face of Merry. "Merry?" He asked. " Have I fallen?"

"Fallen?!" exclaimed Merry, confused. "You silly git, you nearly caused my death scaring me like that. What on earth happen? What is the matter?"

With his cousin's aid Frodo rose to his feet. He couldn't say what had happened for sure. He remembered feeling tired and watching Merry's cloak sway....

"Oh, its nothing," Frodo said, brushing aside Merry's helping hands. "I was just tired, and the sun made me sluggish, I suppose, and-" He was cut off by a loud growl from his stomach. Frodo winced at the loudness of it. Merry certainly heard it. 

"Frodo Baggins, when was the last time you ate?" the Brandybuck demanded. "I know you ate nothing last night, and I know you did not eat this morning either."

Frodo refused to answer. He knew any answer he gave would not elicit a positive response from his young cousin. 

"That's precisely what I thought," Merry said in response to Frodo's silence. He took Frodo's pack from Frodo's back and opened it with the intent of fishing out some lembas for his companion. Frodo turned on him.

"Merry, really, I am quite fine now. I really want nothing to eat, it upsets my stomach," he said. 

"Nonsense," Merry said, still searching. "You have to at least try. If you try, then retch it up perhaps I'll believe you then."

Frodo sighed. "I think we should save whatever food we have. From what Gimli said there is no vegetation in Emyn Muil; we shall need the waybread then."

Merry paused for a minute, thinking, then put Frodo's pack down. Frodo closed his eyes in relief, but then reopened them as Merry said "Then I suppose I shall have to go find something for us. We are still relatively close to the river; there should be something growing around here."

"Merry, we haven't the time," Frodo said anxiously. He already felt embarrassed at his fall and did not want to waste another moment. Again he felt time pressing him. 

Merry waved away Frodo's protests and slung the pack onto his own back. "I shan't be gone long. I'll only look around this area. You just sit there for a moment."

"Merry!" Frodo cried indignantly. "I am not a child! You've no right to-"

"Turn for a turn, I say. You saved me from a watery death, so I shall save you from inadvertently starving yourself. If you honestly won't have me helping you then look at it as a learning experience for me. After all, I must grow up sooner or later," said Merry, turning. Frodo called after him for a while, then gave in and sat down. He smiled slightly to himself. He was grateful that he was not alone.

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Pippin was thrown roughly to the ground. A choked cry emitted from his small body and the orcs around him laughed. Wincing, the hobbit opened his eyes. An assembly of Uruk-hai had circled him and now glared down at him. Averting his eyes, Pippin looked past them to the area surrounding him, hoping to gain some clue as to where they were. A small, smokeless fire burned a little ways away, and more orcs, some smaller than the Uruk-hai, milled around, making loud aggressive noises. The stink of the place was nearly overwhelming and Pippin struggled not to gag. More and more orcs joined the throng around the little hobbit. One stepped close to him and knelt down close to his face. Pippin tried not to gasp at the sight of the thing's face; the demon was missing one eye and scars ran heavily across its nose and mouth.

"Ugly little mite, ain't it?" the uruk said, blinking its remaining eye. Pippin was overwhelmed with the desire to get away and started struggling in an attempt to move backwards. The orcs only laughed. 

"Got a lot 'o more energy than that other one," jeered one. "Look at it squirm!"

Pippin's ears perked up. Other one? There was another one they had caught? Could it be Merry? Had one of the foul creatures gone after him in the river and taken him captive as well? Despite the horrible situation Pippin's heart leapt. If Merry had been captured at least he was alive and they would be together. Perhaps then they could escape, the two of them. Pippin couldn't help but hope.....

"What's this li'll thing worth anyway? Can't eat it; too scrawny. Can't be to strong neither; make a lousy slave, it would," the one-eyed orc said, reaching for Pippin's cloak. 

"BACK!" A harsh, loud voice screamed. The one-eyed orc backed away quickly and rejoined the group. Pippin looked towards the voice. It was a huge orc, red-eyed and monstrous. It growled deeply in its throat as it approached poor Pippin, glaring at all the other (and smaller) orcs. 

"We go now!" the orc shouted, bending down and snatching Pippin up. Frightened, Pip cried out and struggled again, but the Uruk tossed him over its shoulder like a light sack. They passed the fire, passed more orcs readying to leave. They were going to set out again and get even farther from any help. Pippin bucked frantically and did his best to kick with bound legs, but it did no good. The burly orc paid no attention to his fighting prisoner. 

"Pick up that captive!" the red-eyed orc barked at a lone goblin that was sitting next to a small, prone figure. The other orc rose to his feet and shooting an angry glare at his red-eyed companion picked up the being from the ground. Pippin strained to see who or what it was. Was it Merry? Who......

Pippin's eyes caught a glimpse of sandy colored curls and sun tanned skin, of eyes closed tight under a bleeding cut on the forehead. Pippin knew then who it was. 

"Oh Sam..." he whispered, his heart sinking. 

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Whew. Not my best chapter, I would say. I had a heck of a time with the orc scenes; I must have rewritten them at least seven times. I realize that Aragorn is acting a little moody, but this is going to be important later on in the fic for undisclosed reasons. ^_^

Again, make sure you read Galadriel's "vision" carefully. There are hints as to later events in the story and this vision will later prove very important. 

Next chapter: We switch to one story line per chapter. (Yeah! Less confusing!) Now, I would like your opinion. Which storyline should I start with first? Here's the plots for each storyline's next chapter:

Aragorn and Co: Following the orcs proves harder than expected, and the riders of Rohan aren't making it any easier. Eomer must make hard judgments, and Eowyn makes her first appearance (though not to our three heroes just yet.) Guest appearances by Theodred, Theoden, and Grima Wormtounge.

Sam and Pippin: Sam finally awakes and is none too pleased. The orcs move on briefly but an escape attempt by one of the hobbits leads to a fight amongst the two different tribes. Sam and Pippin escape more by luck than a good plan, and come across a rather strange creature (hoom hoom ^_^) Guest appearances by Haldir of Lorien. (I promise I'll get him in there this time!!) and the Witch King. 

Frodo and Merry: Merry accidentally drops Frodo's pack over a steep (but relatively low) cliff in Emyn Muil. Problems are posed as how to get it back and get down the cliff face. Frodo makes a foolish decision and ends up doing something which puts he and Merry at a disadvantage, something that is not good due to a certain hissing creature following them. Who's that muttering "My Precious?" Is it Gollum......or Frodo? Guest appearances by The Mouth of Sauron, Elrond Halfelven, and Bilbo Baggins.

This is your story, guys! Let me know which one you'd like to see first and I'll go with whichever get the most "votes." 

I will sincerely try to update sooner, too. Thank you all!!

  



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